Song title: Lotus Falling
Singer: Journey Brothers
Album: Journey
If the moonlight has faded, I will repaint it with my thoughts< /p>
The lotus falls into the pond water and blooms into a beautiful reincarnation
The ancient towpath takes you three or four times
Liang Zhu turns into a butterfly and dances into the landscape of East Lake
The slightly tipsy daughter Hong is easy to get drunk and is not afraid of chasing in the deep alleys and loneliness
Who are you waiting for at the end of the eight-character bridge?
Anise-flavored carved wine is the perfect match
Huangmei Tiao gracefully folds across the north of the small town
The stele engraved in regular script of the Southern Song Dynasty spreads down the grass and the orioles fly
Regretfully surrounded by the water of Jianhu Lake at the end
Acrostic poem I write with my heart
There is nostalgic love between the lines
Whose tears did I use as a cocoon of ink
You know how to decipher the green sand circles of the hanging pen
p>
Laugh at me like I'm crazy and drink wine to play the piano and run wild
Lanting farewell, you gently urge me
Have you tied up the red thread you gave me
Where is it under the eaves? Nun returns to Yan in early spring and cuddles up in Wu dialect
If the moonlight has faded, I will repaint it with my longing
The lotus falls into the pond water and blurs out the beautiful cycle of reincarnation
Shaoxing opera pass:
p>
Eighteen Xiang Xiang was sent to Xiaoqiao, only to regret that it was too early to get married before her birthday
How could you and I be birds in the same forest, alone at night, looking at flowers and candles
I once heard that Xizi’s laughing fish fell into the water
But you are swaying like an orchid, who is more beautiful
The King of Yue threw a teardrop at the edge of the pool of the King of Yue, breaking tears like catkins
You are no longer in your hometown, melancholy sleeping with the sound of cicadas on your pillow
You are with you in the mist of the black-topped boat
Xu Qingteng waved his hair and let the flowers, birds and ghosts
The scent of the mountain breeze was alive. It’s still hard to catch up after a hundred years
I am tired of poems, books and songs. I am only here to accompany you in this life
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